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During the hot arid months of spring, we anxiously await the arrival of the rainy season. We get to the point where we beg for the cooler temperatures, and moisture to tamp down the endless dust, and refill our evaporating lake.

People make friendly bets as to the date of the first “actual” rain, which most describe as a gully washer, water from sidewalk to sidewalk. When the “rain birds” begin their mating song, we know that the rain will soon come. And when it finally does arrive, people have been known, myself included, to go outside and dance in the rain.

The new appreciation for the change in weather lasts all of about a week in our house. The first casualty of the rainy season is our garage, where we have to dam the water from entering. Each year we try something new with varying degrees of success.

Our next issue is our dog, Baxter, who puts terror into the word Terrier. He doesn’t like getting wet. He refuses to go out for his walk. Even on a leash, he applies his brakes, and he doesn’t move. I bought a yellow slicker for him, and while that helps, he still hates his walk. But Oso, our Chow-Retriever mix is impossible to dry. And our nice clean floor is covered with big muddy paw prints.

Luckily, most of the rain this year has been at night. Good for the dogs, bad for the satellite. It seems that the weather gods are not fans of mysteries, or television in general, but as soon as the program gets to the point of imparting crucial information…the picture begins to pixelate, and the sound cuts off, and the satellite displays the message that it is “sorry” please wait while signal reacquisition is in process.

When the storm is bad, we must grope around to find the remote for the TV and the Satellite to turn them off in case the electricity goes out. Which can happen frequently. Of course, reading books become the obvious alternative, and we don’t even have to have electricity due to electronic books with lighted backgrounds or use of book lights.

Heavy morning rains are the least popular. I can get to my car, but driving, parking, and walking in the rain require a very special kind of patience I don’t possess.

Mexico’s rock roads are a hazard in the rain, as the rain disguises all those big pits in the road, as water covers the road. Even the kindest of drivers spray pedestrians on the sidewalk. And the rain seems to make our pot holes worse.

People using the bus don’t fare well either, a woman told me when she got off the bus, the water came nearly up to her knees! She couldn’t cross the road because the water had been flowing so hard it had developed its own current.

Parking is at a premium as more people are driving because it is raining. They want to park as close to their destination as possible but end up walking further, and even umbrellas can’t protect us, as they are often too wide for the narrow sidewalks. So, we park, slog through puddles, to our destination arriving wet, with spongy shoes, wondering why we even left the house in the first place.

Yet the rainy season does us many favors. It tells us that our roof leaks, the doors and windows don’t shut tight, and reminds us that fireworks aren’t the only loud noises our pets don’t enjoy.

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